


Sign or Symptom

by rainbowpopsicle



Category: B.A.P, Bang Yongguk - Fandom, Kim Himchan - Fandom, Kpop - Fandom, Moon Jongup - Fandom, himup - Fandom, jung daehyun - Fandom, yoo youngjae - Fandom, zelo - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Doctors & Physicians, F/M, M/M, Medical, Medicine, Multi, TS Entertainment - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-16 13:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12343542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowpopsicle/pseuds/rainbowpopsicle
Summary: Whether a child lives or dies should not be based on numerals on a piece of paper but by the skill of those who can help them.





	1. Chapter 1

Hospitals aren't the fast paced scenes painted in modern television shows.  There aren't people running around, nurses shouting for a crash cart, or alarms blaring.  Far from it. They are eerily quiet apart for the incessant beeping of monitors, an occasional cough of a patient and the soft squeak of a cart as the single nurse of the floor goes from room to room.  The air is dry and everywhere the smell of latex and bleach fills your nostrils.  As days pass you find yourself missing the sun for as a hospital worker you enter upon it’s rise and exit long after it has set. Or if you’re on the night shift, you become intimately close with the taste of expresso and the darkness outside the windows.  Instead, harsh fluorescent bulbs beat down on you all day without break apart from a brief dimming in the wee hours of the morning. It’s the quietest during this time.  The drop of a pen clatters like metal on the tile floor.

No, hospitals aren’t the action packed drama scenes that grace your cable networks.  A lot of the time is spent simply waiting. Waiting for charts to be made. Waiting for test results. Waiting for paperwork and decisions to be made. It can be maddening. It’s a humbling atmosphere though. You're never quite alone with your thoughts until you're standing in an empty patient's room, the only sound being the squeak of the bed as it's rolled out and down the hall. Yet another patient has taken their last breath.  You’ve called it, written the time down and it's quiet. The monitors are turned off. No more beeping and soon the smell of bleach fills the air again as the room sanitation crew begins and you move on. On to the next patient.

No. It's nothing like how it is on television.

 

So, when Moon Jongup up was applying for residencies in his final year of graduate school he decided to choose a children’s hospital for clinical training.  His top pick was TS Children’s Hospital and his wish was granted upon graduation.  The hospital was known for being world renown and in the lead of research and success when it came to treating genetic diseases. Plus, he had heard that the Chief of Medicine was widely acknowledged for his successful psychiatric and neurological treatment and that’s what Jongup was going to specialize in for his fellowship. It all seemed to fall into place. He also lacked bed side manner in his internship years so Jongup figured sick kids with colds and upset tummies wasn’t as daunting or emotionally exhausting as it was working in the cardiology or cancer unit back home. 

After weeks of grueling examination, a toss off a cap he was graduated. Three weeks later, a new apartment and a new city, Jongup was hauling his bag higher up his shoulder and stepping through the automatic doors into sterilized Hell.  Late night breakdowns over medical books and a stagnant social life seemed to finally be paying off. Sure, he had a lifetime of student loans to pay off and at age twenty-nine barely had more to his name then some mismatched dishes and a lumpy mattress on the floor.  But Jongup chanced a small crooked smile as he looked up at the glimmering welcome sign hanging above the check in station.

He made it.

As he made his way through the double doors, a security officer gave him a salute from his post and Jongup nodded in return. Years of buckling down and late nights interning were all worth it. He was here. He was now licensed Moon Jongup MD, resident of TS Children’s Hospital. 

As he gazed around the waiting room, he noted that it seemed almost homey at first glance if you ignored the piercing cry of a toddler being bounced on a father’s knee in the corner.  Children's hospitals tend to go out of their way to not look like a medical facility after all.  Brightly painted walls with silhouettes of children playing, tiny furniture and toy bins lining the walls made the facility seem more like a school or daycare. As if the flower shaped door knobs or the hand sanitizer smelling Legos would help children forget where they really were.  Jongup took a moment to gather himself, gripped his backpack’s strap firmly and made his way into the hospital’s depths.

He made his way past nurses in cartoon scrubs and receptionists wearing playful headbands. It was almost cheery as followed the signs for the neurology ward. Dodging around a teenage boy on crutches he advanced along another corridor. Ah teenage boys. They sure know how to get themselves into trouble, he mused. A few more feet up the hall he stopped and did a slow spin to look around. Surely there would be elevators around here somewhere. Damn hospitals, he grumbled to himself. Once you enter you can never leave. Simply because you can’t find an exit.  He moved on, stopping only briefly to squint at the hospital map hanging on a wall. After a moment of struggle he pulled his glasses out of his scrub pocket and mentally cheered as the blocky blur of a word came into view, “elevator” and off he went.

Jongup couldn't help noticing that despite the pleasant baby blue wallpaper he was passing, he could still hear the faint beeping behind brightly painted doors and the soft cry of a baby from the neonatal ward.  He stopped for a moment to let a weeping mother being pushed in a wheelchair pass.  He sighed. Unfortunately. This definitely wasn’t a plesant place. A child doesn’t end up at TS for a common cold. That’s what urgent care and family practitioners are for. This wasn't a place for snotty noses and scrapped knees, this was a children's hospital. A specialty facility.

Jongup was slowly realizing this as he nodded politely to a mother carrying a sleeping baby with thick patches across its chest.  Heart surgery. A few more yards down the corridor he stepped over a sleeping father’s legs resting outside a room.  Who knows how long he’d been there.  His soft snores intermixed with the soft whooshing sound of a breathing machine coming from within.  Jongup stopped again to stare at another hospital map and the nurse of the floor bowed slightly as she passed carrying a bag of frozen breast milk. A sign the child receiving it would be here a while. He swallowed tightly. 

Eventually his footsteps met a trail of colorful fish stickers on the tile floor and he followed it to the elevator and punched the up button. It arrived a few moments later with a ding that echoed down the hall and Jongup stepped aside to let a nurse aide and a young girl in a wheelchair come out.  The door closed and up three floors, down another hall trailed with butterflies, he made his way to the neurology unit of TS Children’s Hospital.  He finally found the bold letters scripted above a double swinging door and he passed through, coming to a stop at a purple painted desk. Jongup looked around for any sign of his new boss.  Glancing down the empty corridor he turned and stood patiently staring at the floor receptionist as she typed away on her computer.  The ward was quiet all but for the clack of her nails on the keyboard and he felt the intimate need not to disturb the hush.  After a moment she looked up questioning, giving his plain blue scrubs a glance over.

“May I help you?” she offered.

“Hi, yes, I’m looking for Doctor Bang Yongguk, I’m his new resident trainee due to start today.”

She stared at his young face, painted eyebrow arched and eyes assessing, before answering, “He’s with a patient down the hall. You can meet him there.” and with a wave of her arm she resumed typing away at her desk.

Right. Okay. Pushing his glasses up and straightening his shoulders, Jongup slipped off down the corridor in the direction she had waved, peering into rooms as he went.  He wasn’t exactly sure who to expect, his interview had been with the CEO as the doctor had been called for an emergency at the time of their meeting.  So, when Jongup rounded a corner and spotted a lanky, petite man in white sitting cross-legged on the floor in the doorway of a room, he was pleasantly surprised.

“Dr. Bang!” a little girl no older than four squealed out, tottering unsteadily out of the room towards the man. 

Jongup stopped a few feet behind and watched him gently gather the girl into his arms, whisper encouragingly into her ear and tickle her chin.  He watched attentively as the Dr. stealthily ran a thermometer across her ear with his other hand and she giggled at the sensation, wrapping her tiny arms around his tanned neck before clamoring back out of his lap and headed back into the room to her mother. Dr. Bang smiled back at her, dropping the tool into his pocket and holding two thumbs up. Jongup smiled softly, if this was anything to go by, his boss didn’t seem to be so bad. 

His scrubs ruffled as he shifted on his feet and the doctor glanced up in his direction. Jongup quickly composed himself and waited for the man to stand up, jot the temperature down on her door chart, pump some hand sanitizer into his hands and turn to face him. The soft gummy smile he had given the child gone as he stared blank faced at Jongup.

“May I help you?” his surprisingly deep voice flowed quietly through the antiseptic air and punched Jongup in the face.  He stood there for a moment before fumbling out, “Moon Jongup, sir, I’m your new resident.” He reached a hand out in greeting and waited, holding his breath.

He thought he was ready for this.  He had set his alarm three hours earlier than necessary and practiced his handshake stance in the mirror. The interview with the CEO was stressful enough but the man before him was the person who would be with him for the next three years. Teaching him. Mentoring him. First impressions were important. So, his pale blue scrubs were starched and clean, honey colored hair swept back away from his face, eyes intelligent and guarded as he stood unwavering under the other’s gaze.  Jongup had a good poker face but as the seconds flowed by he fought the urge to blink and push his lens higher up on the bridge of his nose. Nothing could prepare you for meeting the man who would decide your future. The Doctor before him exuded an aura of confidence and strength. It was a silent energy that suggested he wasn’t one to cross. Jongup held his breath.

The man in white continued staring for a moment, casually looking him up and down before reaching a hand out in acceptance. The tension fizzled out and Jongup let out an internal breath of relief and nodded respectfully at the man’s status.  He noted the lithe fingers and lack of domination in the older man’s handshake. Interesting. He quickly pushed his glasses up.

“Welcome, Moon Jongup, I’m Bang Yong Guk, the attending physician of this floor and Chief of Medicine at this hospital.” he finally said.  It was short and courteous, to the point. Jongup assumed the man must not be one for small talk which was a-okay with him.  Forgoing an awkward vocal exchange, he instead raised an eyebrow questioningly towards the child’s room, glancing up at her chart hanging by the door.

“Kim Ha-Ni. Unknown neuropathy.  She’s in and out of here a lot so we’ve gotten close.” Yongguk supplied simply before turning and walking off down the hall.

Jongup followed.

 

“I’ve heard good things about you from the CEO who did your interview in my place. We shall see.” Yongguk stated simply as they made their way down a flight of stairs at the back of the hospital used for employees.  “I apologize for not being available. Let me show you around.”

Jongup wasn’t sure what to say to that so he held his head high and made appropriate noises as Yongguk brandished to misc. things of importance. Where the emergency exits were (so that’s where they were hidden), the floor stations, break rooms and Yongguk stopped to introduce him to miscellaneous nurses and doctors.  They paused in the diagnostics lab on the second floor and found a puffy haired man typing away into a computer.  Yongguk introduced him as their radiologist, Yoo Youngjae, and the boy of discussion waved a hand in his direction, eyes never leaving the screen.

He showed Jongup the receiving and outgoing bins for samples and what to do with them. How their specific hospital labeled them. How to store them in the industrial sized fridge.  Every facility has their own way. It’s impossible to keep it straight and never mind the way they teach you in school. Jongup mentally erased what he had been told during his internship and saved TS’ way into his memory stores.  A stunning woman in a lab coat sat on a counter swinging her legs as they passed a gigantic whirling centrifuge and made their way out the back door.  As they exited she threw a wink at the doctor which he pointedly ignored.  Jongup wasn’t introduced to her for some reason.

Out of the lab and down another flight of stairs led them down to the first floor and into the neonatal wing where pitiful quiet cries could be heard and nurses and assistants bustled around with bottles and charts. This was probably the most active section of the hospital as the patients here needed 24/7 surveillance and care. He was shown the intensive unit entrance where itty bitty premies were taken care of.  Jongup saw a glimpse of a tiny hand poking out of a blanket through a window in a unit as they pushed on. Amazing what technology can do now a days he mused to himself. He glanced into a room and saw the woman with the baby that had the heart surgery he had seen earlier and gave her a warm smile.  She smiled tiredly back at him.

“Her daughter has had six surgeries so far but we think she’ll be out of here soon. Her mom’s been a trooper.” Yongguk stated, noticing the exchange between them. “We have some of the best surgeons in the country at our disposal here at TS and they’ve done a great job.” Jongup made the appropriate impressed noises and followed him into the NICU. 

“Not a man of many words are you?” Yongguk laughed quietly. “I’m here to do a job, sir.” Jongup commented back as they passed the nurse station. “We’ll get along great then.” he said as they approached another man in white.

Yongguk introduced him as the attending doctor, Jung Daehyun, and after a short exchange they made their way back out and towards the elevators. Jongup had somehow missed the obvious elevator doors in the entry foyer in his awe when he first arrived.  Yongguk paused briefly by one male nurse as tall as Tokyo Tower who was currently bent in half helping a toddler across the waiting room floor to its parents.  The nurse beamed happily at the child, coo’ing softly and encouragingly.  Yongguk subtly wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist as he passed. The nurse sent a dimple faced grin over his shoulder and Jongup didn’t miss the small smile on the Doctor’s lips that quickly fell as they made their way into the elevator and back to the third floor.

“Who was that?” Jongup questioned as the elevator door clicked shut.

Yongguk remained silent as the floor lurched and Jongup took the hint and quieted any further questioning he had. “We’ll head back to my office and I’ll review with you what I expect and we’ll get started on afternoon rounds,” he said instead. The tour was done and it was time to get to work.

Jongup squared his shoulders and mentally prepared himself, fighting off the urge to pick nervously at his clothing.  With another ding and a lurch, he readied himself.  But somebody had other ideas.

 

“Bbang!” somebody boomed out as soon as they stepped off.

Jongup looked up to see a broad man in green loping down the hallway towards them.

Yongguk came to a stop, crossing his arms and Jongup stopped a few feet behind, settling for a polite perplexed expression.  Nurses scurried out of the way as the man came to a hault in front of them.  Jongup noted his gelled back hair, earring, designer scrub set, and arrogant stance. Surgeons, he mentally scoffed.

“What?” Yongguk said calmly.

Jongup was impressed the taller man paid no mind to the icy tone in the Chief of Medicine’s voice and proceeded to clap the man on the shoulder.

“I hear Ha-Ni is back. I think it’s time we did a scan, yeah?” the surgeon said.

“No.” Yongguk simply stated, shrugging the taller man’s arm off his shoulders and proceeded off down the hallway. Jongup gave a short polite bow to the unknown man and followed after Yongguk. They went through the swinging doors, passed the purple desk station and around a corner and into a small office. Whether Yongguk was ignoring or simply not hearing the annoying clap of trainers on the floor behind them, Jongup wasn’t sure.

The office was plain and simple compared to the colorful attempt at happiness of the hospital. The walls were an industrial white and a modern, L shaped desk covered in neatly organized papers took up most the room. A plant grew up from a pot on the desk and was entwined in the plastic blinds of the window which looked to have never been opened.  On the far side of the room, a black plush couch sat with a gray blanket and pillow lying in wait for long overnight shifts.

Yongguk squeezed past a bookshelf full of medical journals and sat down at his desk, brandishing at Jongup to take a seat. He chose the couch over the hard seat sitting awkwardly in front of the desk.  Yongguk wasn’t one for visitors it seems. Just as the thought entered his mind in came Mr. Surgeon.

“She’s been in and out of here for months, Bbang, screw the CEO, she needs it done.” he said, standing haughtily in front of the desk.  Jongup raised his eyebrows at the surgeons audacity to simply invite himself into the room. Yongguk however simply sighed, resting his chin on his hands and stared back at the man. Jongup wasn’t really sure what to make of it all but he really had no patience for ego fights. He’d seen a lifetime worth of cock brandishing in his years of studying.  Competition was natural in such a highly saturated field.  Surgical versus medical was an age-old rivalry but Jongup knew you didn’t generally tend to argue with or take up camp in the Chief of Medicine’s office. A few more silent moments passed as sparks flew back and forth between the two men and he couldn’t take it anymore. He coughed quietly.

Mr. Surgeon’s piercing eyes swiveled to him and suddenly he could feel every hair on his head and bone in his body being appraised.  Eyes travelled from his swept back hair, down the slant of his nose, across his plump lips, down his chest and back up again to linger on his lips.  Jongup subconsciously pulled the pillow into his lap to shielf himself.

“…and who are you?” the surgeon’s voice had turned from exasperated to deep and cocky and Jongup mentally rolled his eyes as the man tilted weight onto one foot, and slipped his thumb into the waistband of his scrub pants.

 “Himchan, this is my new resident, Moon Jongup.” Yongguk interjected before Jongup could come up with something smart to say.

“Seems a bit young doesn’t he?” the man named Himchan smirked, walking over and reaching out a hand. It took all Jongup’s strength to let go of the pillow, bite his lip and accept the handshake.  Himchan saw the internal struggle and his smirk broaden. His eyes sparkled and Jongup tried not to notice how light moles dotted beautifully around them.  He jerked his hand back and Yongguk interjected again with a quick, “Himchan, knock it off.”

“Fine, fine.” the surgeon replied, annoyed nasally tone back, and flumped down onto the hard chair.  Jongup was starting to suspect it was here specifically for Himchan.  He pushed his glasses up.

“So, new resident boy,” Himchan’s attention directed back to him, “if you had a patient who was being admitted in and out of the hospital constantly for fatigue, chronic pain, coordination issues and elevated white blood cells that is not responding to medication, and blood testing has provided no further answers-- what would be your course of action?”

Yongguk sighed and started shuffling through the paperwork in his inbox bin on his desk, ignoring the conversation. Himchan leaned back, determined not to show discomfort in his seating arrangement and stared across the narrow office at Jongup.  The latter wasn’t about to let this pompous man in green school him. So, mimicking his carefree posture, and after a moment of debate, “Well, if standard nerve testing and blood work have shown no diagnoses, then I would move on to an x-ray and note if there’s any abnormalities or injuries in the patient’s spinal cord or brain.” he replied.

“’Standard nerve testing’, he says,” Himchan laughed bitterly. “All Yongguk has gotten the girl approved for is antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication. That’s his standard.”

It was all posturing. Which doctor could wave their flag higher. Jongup hated it.  It was his first day though so he knew it was probably best to play his cards into the hands of the Chief of Medicine in this situation. He cracked his knuckles nervously. He wouldn’t, however, put potential favoritism and cool points over a patient’s wellbeing and begrudgingly agreed with Himchan. He just regretted the cocky smirk that was bound to grace the man’s stupidly symmetrical face.

“Well, that would be first standard of procedures for her first visit since the elevated WBCs indicate an illness or infection somewhere in the body.  But seeing as this has been a reoccurring issue, further testing should still be done to rule out anything more serious.” Jongup continued, glancing towards Yongguk. He refused to witness the arrogant smile on the surgeon’s face.  Himchan just nodded approvingly though, glancing over at Yongguk as well. “My thoughts exactly but our dear Chief here won’t get it ordered.”

“The girl’s mother cannot afford it, they do not have insurance. We’ve been over this, Himchan.  We can only do what we can as the hospital will not cover any further testing.” Yongguk replied, lying a stack of files down and pressing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. His frustration was mounting.

“So what? Have it done anyway. The family can pay it off eventually. There are programs that can help. I’m sure they’d rather have a large medical bill and a living child then the other option.” Jongup cut in, looking between the two men.

“See, I like the way he thinks.” Himchan snorted, jerking a thumb in Jongup’s direction.  “Run the tests, Bbang.”

A hush fell over the trio as the owner of the office quietly shuffled through paperwork and ignored the other two men in the room. Himchan continued to glance at Jongup approvingly, and Jongup pointedly pretended not to notice. He instead picked at a thread sticking out of his scrub bottoms and pushed his glasses up his nose before speaking up again, “I don’t know this girl’s case history, but her life could depend on it. Get her into an MRI even. Better safe than sorry.”

His words were met with silence and Himchan glanced between them eyebrow arched. His patience was wearing thin. Jongup spared a moment to glance over his perfectly pouting bottom lip before turning to give Yongguk an expecting look. After a few more moments of silence Yongguk sighed.

“You’ll soon learn here, Moon Jongup, that machines and doctors don’t save people.  Money does.” Yongguk stated deeply finally.

Before he could come up with a response to that, Himchan threw his hands up, “I’m not here to push paperwork around, Bbang. I’m here to save lives.”

“And you think I’m not?” Yongguk said, eyebrows raising threateningly. Tension skyrocketed in the room and Jongup unconsciously gripped the pillow again.

Himchan stood, lifted the stack of folders off the man’s desk and dropped them with a crash before turning on his heel and leaving the office. Yongguk and Jongup both watched a lone piece of paper slip out of a file, dance across the air and settle onto the floor.

Point made.

After a moment Jongup moved to pick up the piece of paper and handed it back to Yongguk who shoved it into the appropriate folder and stood. Before Jongup could come up with some sort of apology or comment, “Rounds are about to start so I’ll take you around the floor and give you the rundown on all our patients. Everything is in their files as I’m sure you understand. Everything must go through me. Even if it’s something as simple as whether to prescribe acetaminophen or ibuprofen. Every piece of paper, every question or concern crosses my desk, got it?” Yongguk’s steely voice betrayed his annoyance with the prior engagement.

Jongup swallowed and nodded, “Yes, sir.” He’d definitely lost brownie points.

He reached into his bag still hung across his shoulder, passed books, pens and granola bars and pulled out a white coat wrapped in plastic.   He stared at it a moment, fingers resting across the pressed collar.  Ten years of schooling and interning had led up to this moment. Right here. Right now.  He took a deep breath. The noxious scent of sterility hit his pharynx followed by a softer smell of cold coffee that rested on Yongguk’s desk.

He exhaled slowly. He can do this.

Movement startled him out of his mental whirlwind and he looked up to find Yongguk standing before him.  The older man gestured for the coat and Jongup stared at the man’s blank expression before handing it to him.  “Sorry. He’s obviously not one of the renown surgeons I mentioned earlier,” Yongguk chuckled quietly, all trace of irritation gone, as he shook off the plastic and held up the jacket for Jongup to stick his arm in. Jongup could feel the tension oozing out of his shoulders as he shrugged it on, tugging the sleeves down and turned to face his Chief of Medicine.

Jongup was briefly captured by the encouraging eyes gazing down at him. This was the Dr. Bang he had seen in the hallway with Ha Ni hours before.  He gazed quietly at the light curls that hung down into Yongguk’s face as he hung a stethoscope around his neck and smiled.  It was a telling smile.  A smile that said I’m ready. I’m strong. But in the back, also said that I’m nervous and I trust you to guide me. He swallowed and smoothed the jacket’s collar out.

Yongguk understood. This wasn’t the first resident to pass through his doors and he certainly remembered his first days all those years ago. He was determined to be at least half the mentor his was for him. Jongup coughed awkwardly as Yongguk got lost in in thought, picking at the bottom of his jacket. Yongguk proceeded to unwrap the official MD name tag and fastened it to Jongup’s coat. A few tugs and shimmies later and he looked the part. Dr. Moon. The white contrasted beautifully with his tanned skin and as he swept his hand through his hair and pushed his frames back up his nose an air of confidence flowed through him and he joked, “How do I look?”

“You’ll do fine, kid.” Yongguk patted Jongup’s shoulder fondly and motioned for him to follow him out the door.

And Jongup followed.


	2. Chapter 2

Walking shoulder to shoulder Dr. Bang and Dr. Moon made quite they pair as they exited Yongguk’s office and made their way to the first patient’s room at TS Children’s Hospital.  They contrasted wonderfully, one light and round faced, the other broad and angular jawed.  A power duo in the making.  Jongup felt less like a student and more of an equal in his new getup as he walked in line next to the Chief. He couldn’t help the swell of pride that filled his chest when the purple desk receptionist stopped her typing and watched them pass.

They met with Dr. Jung back on the neonatal floor and he briefed them on each of the patients under his care.  Yongguk gave recommendations and scrolled through Daehyun’s notes on the computer cart as they walked along. Jongup made mental notes on Yongguk’s style of medicine and added in his two cents where necessary. Yongguk was definitely on the reserved side, not quick to prescribe medication or send out bloodwork orders. Jongup predicted some future clashing there but for now he held his tongue.

The trio made their way down the hall, stopping at each room. Daehyun was courteous and polite without a hint of arrogance which Jongup massively appreciated. He took a liking to the man immediately, noting the doctor’s boyish charms. He was only a few years older, in his last year of residency and while his eye dimples made an appearance every once in a while, he spoke professionally with Yongguk and was a charismatic star in front of patient’s family. He made sure to throw in a few elbow digs Jongup’s way, though, which eased his nervousness. The comradery was nice to have and reminded Jongup of his mates back home from school. He had a feeling Daehyun was one of those students who giggled in the back of Reproductive Studies though. Still, he knew his stuff and he knew his patients. Respect had been earned.

Jongup listened intently as they walked through the ward and stepped forward more to listen when Daehyun stopped to update them on the baby he had seen with bandages on her chest.  Her name was Eun-Hye and was a few days shy of being three months old.  She was born with a rare genetic heart abnormality and would continue to require surgeries throughout her entire childhood and adolescence.  Thankfully the abnormalities were concentrated to one area of her left ventricle and could be easily managed. She had just received her last surgery for the next year or so a few days ago and was doing great.  She was on anti-inflammatories and was under constant monitoring and anti-biotics to stave off nosocomial infections.

“Can we go in and see her?” Jongup asked after Daehyun got through with his briefing spiel. Yongguk turned away from typing on the computer to look at him questioningly. “I’ve just seen her and her mother a few times and I would like to say hello.” he replied sheepishly, following Daehyun into the room.  They knocked briefly at the door, wiped their hands with the hand sanitizer bottle hanging in the doorway, and walked over to Eun-Hye’s mother as she looked up from an armchair.  A look of alarm leapt to her face as the three men in white entered the room. Yongguk quickly cleared her mind with an arm wave and a smile. Nothing was wrong.

A hospital bassinet sat in the center of the room, numerous wires and monitors surrounded it and the low strong thrum of the girl’s heart beat sounded throughout the room.  A strong lub-dub. Lub-dub.  Jong up could just make out the difference in whooshing sound that signaled the child’s condition.  The beeping of her blood pressure monitor echoed off the walls as Jongup walked over and looked down upon an angelic face sleeping in the bed.  “She’s beautiful,” he said, reaching a hand out to her mother as she stood. “I’m Dr. Moon Jongup the new resident here at TS and I wanted to stop and say hello since I’ve seen you two around a few times now.” It was polite and professional if not a little impersonal.  Jongup was still working on that. But, Eun Hye’s mother nodded and shook his hand, joining him by the bassinet.  Over to the side Daehyun and Yongguk continued going through the child’s notes quietly.

“We’re going home soon.” she said softly, finger brushing her daughter’s tiny hand softly.  “For a while this time.” she smiled up at him, a tear slowly traveling down her cheek.  Jongup smiled and looked back down at the child. A pink knitted blanket covered the rough striped hospital blanket in attempts to make the acrylic basin homier and a matching hat rested upon her head.  Soft black curls poked out and through the knit and a soft smile graced her face as she floated through dreams.  He noticed her surgical scar and stiches just peeking out from the bandage, red and inflamed, cracking the picturesque moment and he looked back up at her mother. 

He took a moment to absorb the love and adoration on the mother’s face as she gazed down at her child.  How many hours and days had she spent in this hospital running off no sleep or food? How many nights has she spent pacing this room? This tiny child has been through so much already in her short life and still has so far to go... He internally sighed. At least she won’t remember this.  He carefully reached down and lifted the blanket up over the scar and lightly brushed the child’s hair out of her eyes. “She’s a fighter.” he said quietly, giving her mother another warm smile. A small sniffle escaped her but her expression remained strong as she nodded in agreement.

The love and strength pouring out Eun-Hye’s mother touched each of the three men in that room and as they made their way out into the hallway Daehyun said quietly, “This is why we do it, Dr. Moon. To see them go home. To see tears of happiness.” He smiled proudly, eye dimple appearing, and clapped an arm around Jongup’s shoulder.  Yongguk nodded quietly in agreement as they walked on towards the next room. Another child. Another beeping monitor. 

Jongup realized with every step on the fish trailed floor that this was it. This was where all his hard work had lead him. And it wasn’t going to be easier than his cardio or cancer unit back home. He knew it could get overwhelming. He knew seeing room after room of hurting children and parents would take an emotional toll eventually. For now though, he knew he was strong enough.  He wouldn’t have gone ten years deep into his schooling if he thought he couldn’t handle it. He’d never been one to get affected by the little things in life, he preferred to look at the broad picture.  Eun-hye was alive and strong. She was going home. Sure she had been dealt an unfair card in life, but she was blessed with a chance. A future for a hard beginning and a mother who loved her. This was why Jongup went into medical. To give somebody that second chance.  If the Gods allowed it anyway.

By the time they got through checking each room on the Neonatal floor Jongup felt like he’d gone through a year of medical school.  The sheer variety of patients overwhelmed and excited him. The prospect of working hands on with rare hereditary diseases and abnormalities was unlike anything practice runs in college could prepare you for.  He had used his medical knowledge more in the past two hours scanning charts and talking with his seniors than he had in his entire final exam. Everything from autism to sickle-cell anemia.  A buzz of energy flowed through him and he pushed his glasses up higher on his nose as he walked on with Yongguk.  Daehyun gave him an encouraging slap on the back as they exited the neonatal floor and they were off back to the neurology ward.

“You handled that well.” Yongguk commented as they waited for their elevator to arrive.

“Thank you?” he replied uncertainly.

“I always do the NICU first.  It’s a good test to see how prepared residents are. If you go quivering and start crying at the site of a baby in a hospital you’re not in the right place.”

They stepped onto the elevator and Jongup fought to think of something to say to that. It came out harshly but he saw truth in Chief’s words. As the doors dinged closed Yongguk continued, “Don’t get me wrong, we’re all here because we love children and want to use our knowledge to help. But you need to be able to…” he struggled to find the words and Jongup interjected, “keep it professional?”

“Yes of course. But above all you must understand that we can’t save every child.  It’s good to… distance yourself.” Yongguk replied after a moment.  Jongup thought it was an odd comment coming from a man who was seen earlier hugging a patient in the floor, but he thought better than to mention that.

“Well I came into the medical field because the science fascinated me. I want to be able to dive deeper into neurology studies and see if we can find permanent cures for certain diseases.” Jongup replied instead, cracking his knuckles and straightening his jacket.

“That may be well and true but you’ll meet your patient soon enough. We all do.” Yongguk stepped away and peered down at his pager, signaling end of discussion. The floor lurched and with a ding the doors opened and he left Jongup standing there pondering his statement. “Go get some lunch,” he called over his shoulder as he headed back towards his office.  Paperwork awaited.

 ~~~~

Twenty minutes later Jongup found himself in the coffee shop down the street slowly stirring his cup of joe.  It was an obvious hang out for the hospital’s staff and surrounding medical complex’s employees.  Doctor’s in white lounged about the shop’s comfy armchairs chatting and getting their afternoon caffeine hit. Jongup had placed himself off in a corner by an electronic fireplace nestled below a wall of bookcases.  It wasn’t as cozy as the real thing nor did it provide any warmth from the chilly winter air outside but it added a sense of calm to the buzzing atmosphere.  Laptops hid faces along a long table beside him and the smell of baked goods filled the air.  Maybe he should get himself a scone. He gazed over at the counter. Nah, line’s too long.

He instead gazed around at the surrounding customers.  A group of women in lab coats were off in another corner having tea and a bunch of young interns in blue clustered around a round table by the front windows. He couldn’t help feeling a bit out of place in white.  He was now technically an established professional but looking around at the older, wizened doctor’s he still felt like he should still be in the boisterous group by the window. The graying doctor’s around him had an air of intelligence and surety about them as they chatted back and forth while he nervously continued stirring his mug. He wasn’t sure who he was supposed to talk to. Not that he was about to drum up a conversation. Hospital dynamics were a bit like being in high school.  Cliques stayed together.  Nurses hung out with nurses and doctors with doctors. It was all a bit silly but nobody really questioned it. Jongup always felt it seemed a bit classist.

With that thought in mind he still inwardly groaned as Kim Himchan walked through the door with a clang of a bell.  The man had thrown on a thigh length pea coat complete with upturned collar over his green scrubs. Jongup would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it if it hadn’t outlined his broad back so well. His eyes followed the surgeon across the wooden floor as he stepped into line behind a tall woman.  He squinted and pushed his glasses up to see her face and as she turned to speak with Himchan a hand waved in front of his face.

“Yah, Jongup!” a familiar voice spoke and he turned to see Daehyun slide into the armchair next to him with a muffin balanced a top his coffee cup.  “You looked a bit lonesome over here so I figured we residents should stick together, eh?” he said while tearing a sugar packet into his cup. Jongup gave him a polite smile and gazed back across the bustling café towards the surgeon. The man was currently ordering his coffee and by the wave of his hand, appeared to be paying for the woman’s as well.

“You did well this morning on rounds. I remember my first day with Dr. Bang.  I was so nervous I went on babbling about the proper consistency of baby diarrhea for ten minutes.”  Daehyun chuckled inwardly and gave his cup a stir.  “What you looking at?” he continued on looking off into the direction Jongup had resumed staring in.  Himchan let out a deep laugh and the woman slapped him across the arm.   Jongup’s eyebrows narrowed as he watched the light catch and glint across the man’s earring as he threw his head back in evident amusement.  Jongup was busy watching the dark hair framing his ears when suddenly the pair was picking up their coffee and heading in their direction.  As their eyes met across the shop, Jongup recognized her bobbed hair and broad smile as the woman from the lab he had seen early that morning with Yongguk. However, halfway to their corner she looked down at her pager, said something to Himchan, and made her way out the door. 

“Oh, that’s Dr. Kim Himchan heading our way. He’s one of the surgeons at our hospital.” Daehyun said between taking sips of his drink.  Jongup assured him they had already met that morning before he could stand to introduce them. That would be awkward. “Ahhhh, Natasha then?” Daehyun questioned, watching Jongup’s gaze follow her out of the coffee shop.  “I’d take your eyes off that one, mate” he laughed, taking another sip of coffee. He made a face at it before reaching for another sugar packet.

“Eyes off who?” Himchan said, sitting down in another armchair across from them with his coffee. Jongup scrunched his nose, of course he drank his coffee black. Jongup ignored him unbuttoning his jacket and watched Daehyun stir in yet another sugar packet into his coffee.  Yikes.

“Hey, hyung. Jongup’s got the eyes for ‘ole Nat.” Daehyun laughed, giving Himchan a wink as the latter balanced his coffee cup upon a crossed knee. Himchan looked up from his balancing act with a comical look of surprise and Jongup responded quickly, “I do not. I simply was trying to figure out where I had seen her from.” He shook his head hastily as Himchan arched an eyebrow. Starting rumors on the first day wasn’t probably the way to begin your career. He glared over at Daehyun who grinned teasingly in return.

“Well good, ‘cause Yongguk would have your hide.” Himchan said a moment later after drinking deeply from his mug. He sighed loudly into the brim.  Was that necessary? He slumped back slightly into the plush armchair as he savored the strong expresso taste before looking back to the conversation.

“Is she his wife?” Jongup pointedly asked Daehyun.

His question was met by two loud snorts and a slight spray of coffee and muffin from Daehyun’s side.  A few doctor and nurse faces swiveled in their direction before shaking their head and resuming their socializing. Jongup inwardly cringed from the secondhand embarrassment and handed Daehyun a napkin. “No, his sister. She is married though so don’t even consider it.” Himchan said, sitting his cup down on the fireplace mantle to reach over and pat Daehyun on the back. Daehyun hacked loudly and Jongup fought the urge to flick the spat muffin crumps off the table between them.

“She works in the morgue.” Himchan continued, giving the mess a distasteful glance.  “Don’t worry, Jongup. There are plenty of eligible bachelorettes at TS.”

“Oh.” he responded after Daehyun’s spluttering petered off.  He suddenly felt a bit chipper and took the first sip of his latte. It was a bit cold at this point but he let a small smile form at the corners of his lips and Himchan reached back up to grab his cup. Daehyun resumed eating his muffin before reaching for more napkins from the dispenser.

“Yah, that’s why you’re still single, right, hyung?” Daehyun joked while wiping off the table. Jongup let out a deep hearty laugh at that and they both looked to him surprise. Daehyun’s eyebrows shot up in amazement that such emotion could escape him and Himchan’s mouth opened incredulously.  Jongup quickly lifted his mug to his lips to cover his smirk and Himchan glared back at him across his mug. “Aye, Soo-ah down in the pharmacy has had the hots for you for a while now, Himchan. She’s a lovely girl why haven’t you asked her out?” Daehyun continued slyly after a moment looking between them.  Himchan grunted noncommittally and took a sip of his coffee. Jongup followed suit.

A few more catty jokes shot back and forth and the trio of doctors drained their cups and readied themselves to head back to the hospital. They deposited their mugs in the appropriate bins and made their way through the sea of medical personnel.   Jongup trailed quietly after the other two men as they weaved their way through armchairs, stopping periodically to watch them clap a colleague on the shoulder or in Daehyun’s case, throw a few flirtatious phrases at anyone that’d give him the time of day. He smiled politely at the curious glances and introduced himself to those who asked. Soon they were out the door and heading back to work.

As Jongup straggled behind the two older doctors he couldn’t help being thankful he had met people his first day.  Even though he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to tolerate the pair in high doses. There was a boyish comradery between them that spoke of a closeness Jongup couldn’t quite figure out.  There was the age and job difference after all.  Daehyun pranced up the sidewalk ahead of him and Himchan strutted along with him periodically reaching over and punching the younger in appreciation of a joke.  Still, the friendship was nice to witness and Jongup chuckled at the jokes quietly to himself as he followed.  Maybe Himchan wasn’t quite the pompous surgeon bro-type he had thought. Nah, he was, he decided a few moments later as he smiled at their backsides.  The chill had given them all rosy cheeks and by the time they crossed several intersections and made their way through the revolving doors of TS, his nose was quite frozen.

The group split up at the entrance. Daehyun through the waiting room back to the neonatal wing and Himchan and Jongup headed to the elevators.  Jongup wasn’t really sure how to respond the man on his own and quietly stood back as they waited for the doors to open.  Of course as soon as the doors closed he had to go and open his mouth though. “Yah, I’m sorry about busting in on your tour this morning with Yongguk-hyung. It probably wasn’t the best first impression.” he said, grimacing slightly while punching in their floor numbers.

Jongup stared at the man in front of him searching for words. Suddenly  Jongup was hyper aware of how small the guest elevator was. He fidgeted with a string on the inside of his scrub pocket as the floor jerked upwards. There was a soft blush to Himchan’s cheeks from assumably the cold and his moles stood out starkly from his pale face. He wondered how many there were. Himchan awkwardly shoved his hands in his coat pockets at the silence and then words were blurting out of Jongup’s mouth, “You seemed to be a bit of prat.” There were a few seconds of silence before Himchan threw his head back in a barking laugh and clapped him on the shoulder.  The glowing smile and crinkled eyes made it impossible for Jongup not to grin playfully back before continuing more seriously, “But it showed that you care about your patients-- and that’s important.” Himchan’s face dropped at that and he nodded in agreement. Mood killer, Jongup. Good job.

Ding.

~~~~

The doors opened and Jongup got off at the neurology floor.  He’d never admit how fast he scurried off that elevator or how he fought the urge to look over his shoulder at the closing doors.  Now off to find Yongguk for afternoon rounds. It took a bit of wandering to find the right corridor as he hadn’t used the entrance elevator before.  It inconveniently didn’t have a sign where he got off. That’s hospitals for ya. Once he found the double swinging doors with Neurology posted above he relaxed and headed for Yongguk’s office. The receptionist actually gave him a smile this time as he passed and he made the mental note to ask her name next time he was passing through. That would probably be easier than squinting at the name tag on her chest.  Don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.  With a knock at the door and a “come in” later he was standing before the Chief’s desk. 

The man was surrounded by folders and looked to not have eaten lunch.  Not that Jongup had.  Coffee is all you need, right? The tall nurse he had seen that morning was seated cross legged on the couch and gave him a wave as he entered. He looked so young. Round faced and dimple cheeked.  Jongup instantly liked him. He had an air of childish innocence so Jongup was surprised when a deep voice introduced himself as Choi Junhong.  “Sorry I missed you on rounds this morning! I’m the lead nurse of the neurology floor.” Yongguk smiled fondly at the nurse and Jongup took a seat next to him on the couch instead of his mentally dubbed Himchan Chair. 

“Junhong was just briefing me on a new patient that was admitted this morning, Jongup.” Yongguk said, handing him a folder. “He’s six, was involved in a car accident that killed both his parents and his baby sister.  Suspected psychological problems associated with the trauma.”

“Poor kid,” Jongup said, flipping through the notes. “He’s mute?” he asked scanning the intake notes.

“He won’t speak, yes.  There was suspected brain damage from the accident but scans cleared him and he was transported here for further evaluation.”

“It’s been nearly a week since the accident and they haven’t been able to get him to eat,” Junhong added in. “They had to anesthetize him to get him into the transport van,” he frowned sadly.

Jongup continued scanning what little information they had on the chart.  “I’m not even really sure where to start with this,” he said looking up at Yongguk. “First and foremost, we need to get him stable and get some food into him,” he continued and Junhong nodded.

“I’m going to go see the boy now before rounds start and I’m going to have Junhong take you down to the medical library while we have some time. We’ll come up with a formal plan of care tonight. I forgot to show you around the basement this morning so I’ll have Junnie take you now.”  Jongup thankfully had good conscious not to make a face at the nurse’s nickname and bowed politely, heading out the door with Junhong. “Oh, and Jongup, here’s your pager. I’ll call you when we’re ready for rounds.” Yongguk said, tossing him the pager as Jongup swung the door shut behind him.

“How long have you been working at TS?” Jongup asked Junhong as they plummeted four floors down to the basement. “I’ve been working under Yongguk-hyung for…” his head tilted to the side in thought, “five years. Since I graduated.” he said with a proud smile.  Jongup’s eyebrows raised in surprise. So the guy was only a year or two younger than him.  Jongup liked the tall nurse. Even with having to walk a step or two faster than normal to keep up with his long legs.  He was easy to talk to with his quiet yet charming personality. Jongup could see why he worked with kids although he and Yongguk seemed like odd work partners.  Junhong had an air of ease and confidence about him while Yongguk’s curly hair had a permanent line in it from running his fingers through it repeatedly. Opposites attract, he mused, as they stepped off the elevators and into the depths of the basement. 

No, it wasn’t a basement you’d find in your grandma’s house.  There were no creepy cobwebs or piles of miscellaneous items nobody would ever have any use for.  Junhong showed him the gym used to blow off steam between shift changes.  The glass windows revealed sweaty doctors working out their stress on the treadmill and other machines as they passed.  Down a hallway led to the morgue and lab with its metal swinging doors. Okay, that’s a bit creepy. They opted not to check that out. The main reason Junhong had led him down here was to show him the archives and reference library after all.

 As they passed through another pair of swinging doors, Jongup was pleasantly surprised to see a large room filled with rows and rows of shelves. In the center of the room sat a couple comfy looking armchairs, a few large tables and a couch off to the side.  A few desks lined the walls and there were even adequate amounts of electrical outlets for laptops or phone chargers.  Hell, there was even a bathroom off in a corner.  Junhong led him around the vast room explaining the layout and where to find certain topics. There was a computer set up to search for whatever ailment you were there to research as well.

“If you can ever not find Yongguk and he’s not in his office, he’s down here.” Junhong said, plopping down on the couch and watching Jongup roam the shelves.  “I’m pretty sure he even wrote some of the studies and periodicals in here,” he added laughing.  It was a treasure trove of information and Jongup was in heaven.  This was even better than the medical library at his graduate school. His fingers trailed over dusty volumes and he soaked in the scent of the paper.  Books, medical journals, research papers. Anything and everything from Type 1 Diabetes to Parkinson’s Disease and Neuroblastoma. Jongup was definitely going to be down here on breaks flipping through documents.  His trailed through shelves looking for a certain section.  P….p…ps….psy.. he mumbled under his breath as his eyes squinted roaming the shelves.  Ah! Psychiatry.

“Looking for something to help us with the new patient?” Junhong asked and Jongup jumped at his sudden presence next to him. Stealthy for such a large guy. “Ah, yeah. Figured I should look up on therapy for kids with PTSD,” he said, absentmindedly flipping through a book. Junhong joined him in scanning the rows of books and folders, tongue slightly poking out of his pouting lips. Suddenly two loud beeps jolted them out of their concentration and Junhong set his book back on the shelf with a sigh.

“That’ll be Yongguk,” he said, reaching a hand into his pocket for the pager. He watched Junhong’s bemused expression pale as he turned his beeping off and Jongup gave him a confused face before looking down at his.

CODE HEART* NEONATAL 311

Jongup dropped his book with a crash.

Eun-hye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Code heart - page code used to call emergency team for a cardiac event


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not medically accurate. At all.

_Lub dub._

_Lub dub._

_Lu dub._

_L… dub…_

_Lub du…b._

_Lu… dub._

_L… du…_

_Lu…_

_Dub…_

_L…_

_…du…_

_…………………………….._

**BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP**

CODE HEART NEONTATAL ROOM 311

All round the hospital, doctors stopped halfway through their progress reports.  Sips of coffee were hastily swallowed, and sandwiches hung midair as everyone looked to their pagers.  Within seconds every member of TS Children’s Hospital received the alert and the hospital became a whirling hurricane of action. 

Himchan, clad head to toe in surgical wear, paused scalpel in hand, and watched the message scroll across one of the many monitors by his operating table.  One of his surgical nurses pressed a button and the message disappeared and they were back to the job at hand. Nothing he could do anything about unfortunately. The steady beeping of the blood pressure monitor bounced off the whitewashed walls and he grimaced, sending a mental prayer for what he was about to do. With a rustle of plastic protective wear, he made the incision.

On the other side of the hospital Daehyun dropped his taco midbite and bolted out of the break room.  His chair swayed before falling to the floor with a clatter behind him and several nurses rushed out behind him. Yongguk swiftly left his office and neonatal nurses from all over stopped what they were doing and made their way to Room 311. The squealing of wheels echoed down the baby blue hall as the emergency tech rushed a crash cart to the appropriate room.

 

Yongguk and Daehyun took the lead as they entered the room, quickly ripping the child’s blankets and nursery gown off.  Her pink hat went flying but her round face remained blank, fists slack above her head as if she was merely dreaming. Daehyun quickly felt for a pulse and Yongguk pressed a stethoscope to her chest while shouting orders for a nurse to start resuscitation. They worked like a machine, one nurse intubated, another set up IV fluids while another ripped open packages of tools, handing one after another to the doctors as needed. It was ordered chaos as the floor beneath the bassinet became littered with plastic, gauze, and items not longer needed.

1… 2…. 3

Daehyun pumped firmly on the girl’s chest, pausing every 3 seconds for Yongguk to quickly listen for a heartbeat.  The monitor behind them still wailed its never-ending alarm and a nurse stood to the side shouting _go, stop, again_ as she watched the girl’s heart rate monitor for any sign of uptick.

1…2… 3

The line remained flat.

Ten minutes later Daehyun was still frantically trying to resuscitate the girl. Several nurses stood back in defeat and Yongguk leaned over, begging for any sign of life to echo through his stethoscope. For a moment he let his heart leap in hope as a soft whooshing sound came through and he looked up to Daehyun whose eyes were blown wide with adrenaline. They both paused, looking down at the girl. Her lips had become ashen, skin mottling by the minute, and they watched as soft breath escaped her lips as her lungs emptied. Her jaw slackened, and Yongguk’s heart sank. A nurse finally turned the beeping monitor off.

1…2… 3

Yongguk slowly lowered his stethoscope from his ears. In the corner, Eun Hye’s mother’s eyes widened and she looked to Daehyun. His brown hair had fallen over his panicked eyes as he made to start chest compressions again. Yongguk slowly raised his arm to look at this watch.

1…2… 3

“Call it,” he said, showing Daehyun the time.

For a moment Yongguk thought he was about to refuse as he watched the man prepare to start pumping again, staring wide eyed at the girl.  Her black curls lay gently across her forehead and her tiny fists were still poised above her head.  If it weren’t for the six-inch row of angry red stitches staining her chest she might have been any other sleeping child.  But as they watched, the red line paled.  He slowly lowered his arms in defeat.

“Daehyun…” Yongguk said quietly.

A few moments passed, and the young doctor swallowed and pulled himself together. A hush fell across the room as the nurses paused in their movements. Daehyun straightened up, raked his brown hair out of his eyes and looked upwards to the heavens before speaking, “3:42 p.m. Lee Eun-Hye. Deceased,” and left the room.

Jongup skidded through the door just as her mother let out a gargled wail and his heart dropped.  Three nurses surrounded her as she fell to the floor and Jongup looked do Daehyun for confirmation. The doctor didn’t make eye contact as he brushed passed him in the doorway, throwing his gloves into the floor as he headed off down the hall without a word. A nurse bent down and picked them up, quickly bowing to Jongup, and rushed after him.

Yongguk met Jongup’s eyes briefly before slowly turning, hands pressed together in front of his face and bowed deeply to the mother. He turned back and began pulling all the tape and wires off the child.  Another nurse stepped in to pull her IV out and Jongup watched speechless from the doorway as Yongguk bent, picking the pink knit blanket off the floor, and wrapped the child in it before handing her to the woman.

“I’m so sorry,” were the only words spoken before he too left the room.

There were no tears. Her eyes wide as she took the bundle and stared down at her daughter.  Her jaw quivered, and she looked around the room as if somebody was about to jump out and yell, “Gotcha!” The only thing that met her gaze were sympathetic expressions instead and Jongup watched as reality slowly sunk in. Her head swiveled back and forth from nurse to nurse, panic settling in and one quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she broke down.

If this were a television drama, some soulful music like _Hallelujah_ would be sounding across the PA system right about now as everyone stops and mourns.  But death isn’t as dramatic as it’s made out to be on the screen.  It’s surprisingly underwhelming when death takes a victim to the other side. For half a moment you want to poke the person just to make sure. Jongup refrained in this case.

So instead of a crescendo of violins, work went on as a quiet hush fell over the hospital after 3:42 p.m. on that chilly November afternoon. Machines were turned off, the bassinet was rolled out, and one by one nurses exited room 311 as Ms. Lee huddled in the floor clutching her daughter. 

Not a cry could be heard from the preemie wing and every member of the hospital paused as they felt a chill sweep through the corridors.  It’s an eerie phenomenon but everyone feels it. Everyone knows. Maybe it’s a feeling on the wind.  Or the body language of a passing nurse as he moves on to his next patient... but it spreads like wildfire through every corridor and room. Even oblivious off the clock doctors jogging away in the basement knew as they watched Natasha pulling on her lab coat and leaving the morgue with a gurney.  That’s never a good sign. Especially in a children’s hospital.

Back on the fourth floor, Dr. Kim stopped his final suturing to look up as Daehyun passed his glass windows on the way to the roof. He took in the slump of the man’s shoulders and paled face and he knew too. Room 311 didn’t make it. He sighed and clipped the thread of his last suture and glanced towards the heart rate monitor just in case.  His patient, a twelve-year-old boy with a ripped spinal disc, powered on.  Life isn’t fair unfortunately. He sighed, lowering his face mask and signaled to his assistants a job done.

Ten minutes later he was washed up, out of his surgical attire and heading towards the roof.  His eyes fell upon Daehyun’s pacing back as he came to the top of the stairwell. He paused. Some people liked to be alone in their grief. But Daehyun turned to look at him hovering in the metal doorframe and burst out, “She was supposed to go home!” and Himchan let the door shut with a clang behind him. The boy before him slung his stethoscope to the ground and Himchan quickly closed the distance and gathered the younger doctor into his arms.

“She was supposed to go home…” Daehyun sobbed into his shoulder and Himchan massaged the back of his neck. “I know, I know. Sometimes… it just doesn’t work out,” he said blandly.  There really weren’t words for this kind of situation. It wasn’t fair. You win some you lose some. Literally. No amount of medicine can change what is meant to be. Or that’s what he told himself anyway… He grimaced over Deahyun’s shoulder.

“Look, Daehyun, you’re gonna lose patients, okay?” he tried again, patting the smaller man on the back.

“She’d been through so much… she was supposed to go home…” he sniffled.

Himchan sighed, pushing the man back to arms lengths.

“It’s not your fault, okay? Just work on saving the next one, yah?” he said, holding Daehyun’s chin up with his forefinger. The man’s brown eyes were watery as he met Himchan’s gaze, but he stubbornly refused to let the tears fall. His chin quivered slightly. Himchan admired his determination and ruffled his hair.

“Come on, I know it doesn’t make it any easier…” he said, picking the doctor’s stethoscope up and wrapping it back around the man’s neck, “but, you got this,” he finished, leading the man back inside.  Daehyun took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Lifting his head, he gave Himchan a nod. On to the next patient.

 ~~~~

Downstairs Jongup’s day continued with a blur of evening rounds and repeated shots of stale coffee from the breakroom.  Yongguk retreated into his office to write up a report and left the evening duties to him and a few interns. Junhong joined him for the neurology floor dealings and Daehyun for the neonatal. The man was silent as Jongup scrolled through charts on the computer trolley, occasionally giving a grunt of agreement to Jongup’s medical decisions. Next thing he knew he was picking up his bag from Yongguk’s empty office and heading out the front doors into the night.

No moon or stars greeted him as he headed down the sidewalk.  Clouds had rolled in heavy and thick in the early evening giving the air around him a sense of body and substance.  Leaves swirled around him as he shoved his hands into the light hoodie he had stashed in the bottom of his bag. He had shed the white coat the moment his shift had ended at midnight.  He didn’t feel much like a doctor after his first day. The air was bitter cold. Winter was truly upon them and as he walked down the lamp lit sidewalk he couldn’t help thinking that Eun-hye never got to see her first Christmas. Her first snow.  He angrily kicked a pebble up the leaf strewn path.

The sound of a car slowing down beside him jerked him out of his bitter thoughts and he slowly reached for the keys hanging off his bag.  A white sports car slowed to a stop beside him and a window rolled down to reveal Kim Himchan behind the wheel. He lowered his keys.  

“Hey, need a ride?” Himchan said, reaching across to pop the passenger side door open.

Jongup looked to the older man’s face and back to the swirling leaves skittering across the cold pavement and decided to put his independence aside and took a seat next to the surgeon.  It was cold, he decided, and a long walk home.  He tentatively shifted on the leather seats, reaching up to blow warm breath onto his hands and Himchan pulled away from the curb with a rev of the engine.  His perfectly gelled hair was mussed up beyond repair at this point and a shadow of a mustache had appeared on his upper lip.  Both men’s eyes showed bags as they drove off in silence.  It had been a long day.

Himchan didn’t say anything as they cruised through the city traffic and Jongup’s eyes darted nervously around the car’s interior, noting the soft scent that he would soon know was inherently Himchan.  A warm scent of vanilla, black coffee, and in the back of it all… is that curry? He wrinkled his nose trying to discern the scent and as Himchan spoke up, “Where do you live?” and he jumped slightly. Himchan glanced over to him, lip curling slightly in amusement and Jongup slumped down in seat before replying. It was a good haul from the hospital. Himchan leaned back, setting the car on cruise control.  

Jongup watched out the window, car lights flashing by. Neither had much to say and Jongup was surprised to see Himchan’s eyebrows furrowed, obviously deep in thought as he drove. He couldn’t think of anything to talk about anyway, so he remained quiet. He instead stared ahead, occasionally glancing to Himchan’s broad hand curved around the bottom of the steering wheel.  It held a tension despite the man’s relaxed posture. The other rested quietly atop the shift stick, his knuckles catching in the light of street lamps as his fingers periodically tapped to an unheard beat. He had his pea coat on again and the collar was folded cleanly down across his chest. Maybe he reflects his mood by his collar position, Jongup mused, watching Himchan’s eyes focused on the road.  Fifteen minutes later Jongup almost missed telling him where to turn and Himchan quickly braked before pulling into an apartment complex.

As Jongup stepped out of the car, mumbling a thank you for the ride, and closed the door, Himchan rolled the window down and called out, “Still a prat?” in a cheeky voice. Jongup paused on the curb, turned to look at the man smiling teasingly back at him and smiled for the first time in hours. “Yeah,” he answered after a beat, shifting his bag onto his shoulder and turning to head for his apartment’s stairwell. He heard Himchan’s chuckle behind him and with a screech of tires he was gone.

Jongup let out a sigh, pushed his glasses up and slowly climbed the metal stairwell leading to his apartment floor. His mood quickly fell with each echoing clang of his footsteps as he made his way to the fifth floor. He shuffled through his pockets in search as he arrived at his door. Room 502. Finding his keys, he swung the door open and threw his bag down on the floor. It wasn’t exactly a home by any standard. More of a temporary living space, but it suited him just the same. Most of his hours would be spent at the hospital anyway.

The apartment was indeed tiny though.  Cardboard boxes lined the narrow entry hall.  Boxes he had yet to unpack. Most of it was textbooks and medical journals from uni. The dingy beige carpet led into the living room which was bare apart from a small glass table covered in paperwork.  His lease forms, job applications, utility setup bills. Moving is such a pain and Jongup had vowed to own as little as possible until he graduated. Maybe now with a stable job and income he could buy a couch.  He chuckled blandly to himself at the thought and moved into the kitchen. It was miniscule as well with an old white oven range in the corner. He’d yet to test and see if the burners worked.  Not that he really cooked. Opening the fridge, he stared at the contents: a few beer bottles and a bag of apples.  He definitely needed to go grocery shopping… he grabbed an apple out, bit into it, and wandered off into the living room and out the sliding doors onto the balcony. 

A sloping hill lay out before him with a pond at the bottom.  Across from that and behind a row of trees was a highway.  Few cars sped along it at this hour as it was after midnight and he leaned against the railing and sighed, watching his breath create swirling clouds that dissipated into the wind. The quiet was nice. Today had been a roller coaster of emotion and activity.   From meeting his new coworkers, learning the ins and outs of the hospital and losing a patient on the very first day… he was tired to say the least.  He took a few deep breaths of the cold air and shook his head.  He could do this. He didn’t go through ten years of schooling to wimp out on the first day.

Jongup stayed out there for a while soothing his mind.  After a bit he finished the apple and chucked it across the hill for the ducks by the pond and headed back inside.  An hour later he was showered, changed into plaid sleep pants and curled up in bed with a bowl of ramen and an anime episode.  He didn’t figure he would be able to fall asleep any time soon so instead he chuckled happily alone in the dark to his show. Next thing he knew his face was smashed into his phone screen which was screaming its alarm for time to get up. He sat up with a groan and wiped the drool off the screen. Back to work.

~~~

The next few days flew by in a blur of medical madness. Jongup soon got into a routine with rounds and working around Yongguk’s ever busy schedule as the Chief of Medicine. He could now find his way anywhere in the hospital and had even learned a few shortcuts.  He hadn’t seen Daehyun much or Himchan but he had gotten to spend a lot of time with Junhong. They were currently pouring over documents down in the basement library looking for any insight in how to treat the new neurology patient that was checked in last week. His name was Ji Hoon and they had made very little progress on his recovery. Even Yongguk was struggling with ideas. 

“I just don’t know…” Junhong said with a sigh, slamming closed yet another medical journal. Jongup looked up from his reading and gave him an encouraging frown. If that was a thing.  Junhong seemed to understand though and flicked a piece of balled up paper at him. A smile tugged at Jongup’s cheek and soon they were flicking the piece of paper back and forth across the table like a pair of high school students.  You just couldn’t be shy around Junhong, Jongup had decided. He was glad the guy was the head of his floor. Work was always harder when you didn’t get along with your coworkers.

“Having fun?” a voice sounded behind them and Jongup nearly jumped out of his skin, quickly composing himself back into a professional entity. The image was quickly ruined as Junhong sent the paper ball flying passed his head and hit the owner of said voice in the chest.

A lanky man with puffy hair stood before them, hands dramatically placed on his hips and a glare plastered across his round face. Jongup squinted, pushing his glasses up his nose.  But before he could read the man’s name tag Junhong called out, “Youngjaeeeee, you ruined my goal.” And Jongup recognized him as TS’ radiologist he had met his first day. The man crossed the isle of tables and grabbed the young nurse in a headlock, ruffling his hair, while the taller man squealed in delight. Jongup watched in amusement as the man plopped down beside the nurse.  He was wearing his lab coat but Jongup couldn’t help staring at the fluffy pink sweater he had on underneath. Odd choice.

“What ya guys doing?” Youngjae said, looking up expectedly at Jongup’s staring as he thumbed through one of the many piles of books they had lying out. Junhong groaned and slumped in his seat defeated, long legs sprawling out, kicking Jongup’s chair. Jongup kicked him back.

 “We’re looking for some insight on a patient,” Junhong responded after a beat, opening another giant binder and flipping through it.

“Uh huh…” the radiologist replied, “That doesn’t really give me any insight.”

Jongup snorted slightly to himself and Youngjae beamed at the appreciation of his joke. “We have a kid with some sort of PTSD induced shut down.” Jongup responded after a moment, frowning. “He won’t talk or respond to us and he’s not eating.”

“Yikes, I haven’t done an MRI on a patient like that, have Yongguk send him down to my lab. Make sure there isn’t anything funny going on.” Youngjae replied, trying to stuff the paper ball into Junhong’s scrub top.

“Yongguk refuses,” Jongup said, closing another book with a slam.

“Ahhh,” Youngjae responded knowingly. “Well send him anyway.”

“I rather like keeping my job.” Jongup laughed.

“Junhong you do it then, you can get away with anything.” Youngjae cackled, pinching the nurse’s cheek. “How do you do it?” he laughed as Junhong’s cheek turned red.

“I raise my voice an octave, give everyone round eyes and bat my eyelashes repeatedly,” he said seriously, slapping Youngjae’s hands away. “Works like a charm,” he grinned over at Jongup who was laughing. “Every time,” he finished with a cheeky smile and Youngjae feigned a heart attack.

The trio laughed quietly to themselves before settling down to flip through the medical books again in silence.  After a moment Youngjae seemed to realize this isn’t what he was there for and stood. “I’ve forgotten what I came down here for,” he said, staring at the shelves, hand on his hip.  Jongup ran a hand through his hair and sighed, standing as well. “I better get back upstairs for rounds,” he said, stacking the books he had laid out on the end of the table. Junhong stood as well, stretching his long arms wide and cracked his neck. “Maybe we should check the old archives. I’m sure there’s some dusty boxes around here somewhere,” he said, following Jongup out of the library. They left Youngjae behind who was still squinting at the shelves wondering what he had come there for.

 

The pair split up at the neurology floor, Junhong off to rally his floor nurses for the evening and Jongup to Yongguk’s office.  After a week working one on one with the man he felt perfectly comfortable simply walking through the slightly ajar door. The back of black suit greeted him from the doorway and he paused, waiting for permission to enter. 

“I’ll go see what Dr. Yoo has found,” the man said, gathering up a stack of folders and putting them in a briefcase.

Jongup didn’t want to appear eavesdropping so he knocked quietly on the door and Yongguk beckoned him in after a quick shuffle of paperwork. Jongup hesitantly stepped around the man before Yongguk’s desk as he finished clasping his case. He was tall, as tall as Junhong, he noticed, and held a stern unforgiving expression in his perfectly pressed suit.  The man gave a short bow, side cut bangs bouncing slightly, and retreated from the room.

“I’m working on Eun Hye’s case report.” Yongguk said simply at Jongup’s questioning eyebrow. “I’ll be presenting it to the board tomorrow morning. You’re more than welcome to attend if you wish.” Jongup nodded. He’d definitely be in attendance.

“Are you handling everything okay?” the older man asked behind his paper stacked desk. The death of the girl had shaken many in the hospital that afternoon.  After several successful surgeries the girl was due to be discharged only two days after the day she died. It was unfortunate and Jongup nodded. Hopefully children dying isn’t something he will have to get used to, he thought quietly to himself.

“I have a lot of work to do still so you’ll be doing rounds on your own tonight as well,” Yongguk continued, running a hand through his hair. “You’re doing fine, Jongup, I trust you to do well.” He said, eyes returning to his computer screen. He was dismissed.

 

Thirty minutes later Jongup had covered everyone on their floor except for the last one on the left. It was their car accident patient. Entering the room, he was greeted by a familiar face. Junhong was there sitting cross legged on the patient’s bed (which looked ridiculous with his size) and was attempting to feed the boy applesauce.  He looked up as Jongup entered and gave him a sad smile.

“How’s he doing?” Jongup said, pulling his computer trolley into the room and sanitizing his hands.  He scanned the boy’s arm band tag and “Park Ji Hoon” popped up on his screen.  So far, the boy had refused solid food and water, wasn’t expressing any pain, but wouldn’t interact with them. He’d been on straight IV nutrition since being admitted to TS.

Junhong stretched and groaned, leaning back in the bed to watch Jongup work.  The boy sat to his side staring down at a tablet that was playing a cartoon.  His expression was blank as the cartoon children giggled and played across the screen. Jongup quickly checked the boy’s temperature, blood pressure, and heart rate. Everything checked out okay and matched Junhong’s data and he sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. The boy was wearing a Winnie the Pooh hospital gown and his tussled curls made him seem a lot younger than six. Jongup wasn’t sure how he would respond to physical touch at this point and refrained from wrapping an arm around the child. 

“Ji Hoon?”

Nothing.

“Ji Hoon?” he tried again in a higher voice. The boy didn’t even bat an eye as he stared transfixed at the screen. Jongup took the applesauce Junhong had set to the side and held a spoonful of it up to the boy’s lips.  He made no move to accept the spoon and Jongup couldn’t help poking him in the lip with it.  Maybe he needed tough love. The boy blinked and a drop of applesauce fell with a splat onto the tablet.

Nothing.

Junhong stepped up off the bed and pulled a paper towel out of the holder by the bathroom and returned, beatboxing under his breath.  The boy allowed him to take the tablet and wipe it off before returning it to him.  Jongup stared, thinking and as Junhong moved across the room to throw the towel out, he noticed Ji Hoon looking up to follow his movements.

“Ji Hoon, do you like our nurse Junhong?” Jongup asked, as the boy looked back to the tablet.

No response.

Junhong returned and knelt at the side of the bed giving the child his wide innocent eyes.

“Ji Hooooooonie…” he crooned, pouting his cheeks and making his dimple appear. Jongup tried not to cringe as he waited. After a moment Junhong let his face fall as the boy didn’t respond. But suddenly Jongup had an idea.

“Junhong do you beatbox a lot?” he asked.

The nurse looked up to him with a bewildered expression, “I donno, it’s a subconscious habit so maybe?” he said.

“Beatbox for him.” Jongup said excitedly, setting the applesauce on the bedside table.

Junhong stared at him waiting for him to say he was joking and when he didn’t he quietly started a beat up.  Jongup watched for a moment as nothing happened but slowly he could see the focus in the boy’s eyes appear and his eyes flicked to the nurse kneeling before him and back to the screen. Jongup could almost feel the boy’s ears honing in on the noise coming from the nurse’s mouth.

“Try to talk to him,” Jongup mouthed to Junhong over the boy’s shoulder.  The nurse gave him an _are you serious_ face before increasing his beat tempo.

“Ji Hoon~” he started awkwardly, saying his name with a rap flare. “Ji Hoon how ya doin’ we’re here to take care of you, Ji Hoooooo~n…” the boy blinked slowly and looked up at the nurse. Jongup had to control himself from laughing at the bad rap and from fist pumping the air as the boy stared on. Junhong grew more emphatic in his rap as the minutes passed. The tablet had been forgotten as the curly haired boy stared eyes wide at Junhong. Jongup grinned from behind the boy’s head and Junhong burst into a rhythmic dance in the middle of the hospital room and Jongup could swear he saw the beginnings of a smile on the child’s face.

Junhong was moon walking when another nurse walked into the room and he abruptly stopped and Jongup burst out laughing at his beet red face.  The nurse immediately spun on her heel and left the room.  Moment over.  Ji Hoon returned to watching the tablet and Jongup got up, patted the boy on his head and whisked Junhong out of the room.

“I have an idea,” he said as they walked off down the hall.


End file.
